


Icarus had the right idea

by Luthor



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25473445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthor/pseuds/Luthor
Summary: In which Alexis convinces Twyla to take her to the beach, and has an okay-time I guess."God, but— Twyla’s not just pretty, is she? Beneath those frumpy jeans and obscene floral dresses, she’s kind ofhot."
Relationships: Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69





	Icarus had the right idea

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt from @turningtimeinthetardis, thank you so much. <3

It’s a particularly scorching day in Schitt’s Creek, and Alexis Rose is hot-tempered and sweaty— and not for any of the _fun_ reasons, either.

Café Tropical is a welcome reprieve from the sun-bleached sidewalks, and Alexis’ first port of call in her mid-morning routine, as it seems to have become for the past however many weeks. The first blasts of conditioned air welcome her to her designated stool at the bar – an accidental habit that she’s fallen into, and yet one she’s becoming strangely territorial over, so much so that other patrons know to leave the seat empty for her arrival.

Alexis falls dramatically onto the stool, and then again when her first attempt fails to capture Twyla’s attention. 

With a dishrag in hand, Twyla glances up from where she’s wiping down surfaces behind the counter. Today, she is in a floral-print blue dress that ends at her knees and reveals slender shoulders with its modest neckline. It’s not the exact shade of blue that matches her eyes, but one that complements them, for sure, and Alexis is too pleased with herself for noticing that fine detail to wonder why she had.

“Oh, hey, Alexis.” Twyla’s grin is usually infectious, but today she takes in flushed cheeks, slumped shoulders, and an overall expression of disdain, and it falters. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, no,” Alexis says, like anyone should know, “this whole global warming thing is really not great for my stress lines. But, hey, listen! What are you doing today?”

“Um, I’m working?” She glances around the café like it’s a joke.

“Oh, boo. I have a better idea.” Alexis sets her hands on the counter like she’s a piano player, and wiggles in her stool. “You, me, and the nearest public coastline.” When Twyla doesn’t immediately jump at the offer, Alexis continues, face falling, “Okay, so I know it’s not exactly a private yacht and lunchtime mojitos, but I really think some beach-time would be good for you. You spend all day behind this counter, it’s not healthy.”

“But it’s my job,” Twyla says, shrugging like it doesn’t matter either way. “I can’t just leave halfway through the day.”

“I’m just voicing my concerns, as your friend. I think you could do with a little more sun, is all.”

“Hm, I burn up pretty badly if I get too much, actually.”

Alexis releases a breath of air, hands flattening on the counter top.

“Okay, Twy? You don’t want to know how long it’s been since I last stepped foot on a beach. I really need this.” Alexis is not above puppy-dog-eyesing her way into this, especially when Twyla looks so ready to crack. “I just need to lie down on a beach towel and de-stress for a few hours, and I can’t think of anyone better to do that with.”

Twyla blinks, expression doubtful. “Than me?”

“Of course, with you!” Alexis huffs. “You’re, like, my best friend here. Don’t go repeating that, though, or you’ll hurt Stevie’s feelings.”

Twyla draws her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t know, it sounds like fun but… who’s going to watch this place if I leave early?” Alexis swivels around on her stool, spotting exactly two other diners in the café, and sharing a table at that. She turns back to Twyla with a pointed eyebrow raise. “Alright, fine… I suppose, it _is_ a Sunday, and it wouldn’t be the first time that I left George in charge…”

“Oh, yay!” Alexis claps. “I can’t remember the last time you took a day off work.”

“I—” Twyla stops, frowns. “Me neither, actually.”

“Then, that settles it. Officially.” Standing from her stool, Alexis points a wiggling finger at her and says, “I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes, and you better have a cute little bikini on underneath that dress, or we’re going to cause a scene.”

For her part, Twyla appears suitably threatened.

* * *

They reach the beach just before lunchtime.

“Oh, good,” Alexis deadpans, drawing the sunglasses from the bridge of her nose, “it looks like every other person in the world had the same idea today.”

Even Twyla’s expression is brokering on dismayed as they stare out across the beach – peaceful waves, golden sand, and what feels like several miles of underdressed bodies taking up every inch of available space. If Alexis had known to expect this, she’d have planned the trip in advance, or something. The wail from a nearby toddler shakes Alexis from the thought, and she grasps Twyla’s wrist as though anchoring herself there.

“Okay. We need to find a spot away from all of _this_.” She gestures vaguely to the crowded beach. “Ugh, this outfit is so wasted on these people.”

“Well, _I_ appreciate it,” Twyla says immediately, and then closes her mouth. “I-I mean… you always look so good, so…”

Preening, Alexis pokes her in the arm. _Oh, you_.

“So sweet. Let’s start walking before I change my mind.”

Twyla nods in flustered agreement. “There’s some space over there. Oh, careful, don’t step in that ice cream.”

Alexis retches inside her mouth.

By the time they reach the far end of the beach, further from the sea than Alexis would have preferred but blessedly quieter, Alexis is sweating. She drops her purse in the sand and draws the shirt from over her head, revealing a chic navy-blue bikini top underneath. She uses her shirt to fan her face as she takes in the scene; it’s like nothing she’s used to, of course, and yet if she just turns ever so slightly to the side and shields one half of her face with a hand, she can almost pretend that it’s a private beach, and she and Twyla are its only occupants.

The thought catches her off-guard.

In all her years at Schitt’s Creek, this same fantasy has played itself out in her daydreams numerous times – beach, waves, sun-kissed and half-naked bodies surrounding her. Rarely, if ever, have any of them belonged to Twyla.

Alexis turns her gaze upon her friend as she rolls out a beach blanket for them to lie on.

Twyla is cute, in that small-town, non-threatening, strong-moral-backbone sort of way.

She’s so different to the friends that Alexis is used to making, and yet, strange as it may seem, that’s why Alexis likes her so much. It’s not that Twyla’s a novelty. It’s not even that Alexis just tolerates her because there’s literally no other option, although she’s a little ashamed to know that she has been the kind of person who would do that of thing in the past. Years ago, before Schitt’s Creek, that wouldn’t have bothered her so much.

God, but she’s _sweet_ , Alexis thinks, watching Twyla make sure the blanket is completely unfolded at the corners and brushing away the sand that she’s already treading into it. She’s considerate, and honest to a fault, and thoughtful, and maybe – just _maybe_ – she might be the only real friend that Alexis has made since she was a kid.

“I brought sunscreen,” Twyla says, once the blanket is fixed and she’s seated herself on one side of it. Alexis joins her at the other, unfastening her sandals. “I don’t know if you already put some on, but you’re welcome to use it, if not. It’s a _really_ good one.” Twyla holds up the bottle – factor 50 – and Alexis bites back a laugh. “What? I told you I burn easily.”

“No, I know. Pass it here, then. Sun damage is _not_ cute.”

Twyla passes the bottle over with a smile.

Alexis is so busy smiling back at her, that she barely has a chance to prepare when Twyla lifts to her knees and draws the sundress over the top of her head. For a breath-stopping moment, all Alexis sees is pale skin and freckles, before she realises that’s _weird_ and looks away. She is vaguely aware of Twyla folding up her dress, but Alexis is pointedly _not looking_. Because they’re friends. And she might have a touch of sunstroke already, maybe.

“Want me to get your back?” Twyla asks her, and Alexis marvels at the way her throat closes, that all she can do is hum and nod her agreement.

Twyla takes the sunscreen from her and draws Alexis’ hair over one shoulder. Alexis focuses on a spot in the distance – a group of tiny figures swimming in the sea, too far away to hear what’s happening but they look like they’re having a good time. When the sunscreen touches her back, it’s cold. Alexis supposes that’s the reason a shiver runs through her skin as Twyla massages it in.

Clearing her throat, Alexis says, “This was a good decision.”

She wonders if she’s trying to convince herself, or just voicing an opinion.

“I think so, too,” Twyla agrees without hesitation.

She leaves Alexis as soon as she’s finished, and retakes her seat beside her. Alexis watches her squirt more sunscreen into her hands and lather it into her arms and chest. When Twyla dips her head forward, better to keep her ponytail out of the way, and begins to rub sunscreen into her shoulders, Alexis hesitates.

“Oh, do you— do you want me to—?”

“That’s okay,” Twyla smiles, “I’ve been applying my own sunscreen since before I could walk.”

It’s said like a joke, but Alexis doesn’t think it is. They both choose to smile their way through it.

Too close for comfort, a gaggle of teenage boys run laughing towards the sea, and the tension dispels. Alexis watches them go with a disapproving frown, but no— she’s here to relax, to de-stress. She takes a large breath in, and lies down on the beach blanket before she exhales. Spreading out, she makes sure that her entire front side is on perfect display of the sun, and closes her eyes.

Beside her, unmoving, Twyla glances to and from Alexis before figuring that she should do the same.

“So,” she starts, and Alexis hums to let her know that she’s listening. “I was thinking of warming up here for a little while and then going for a swim?”

“Mm, love that journey for you. I’ll keep an eye on our things while you’re gone.”

“You don’t want to join me?”

Alexis cracks an eye open to find Twyla facing her, and smiles.

“Oh, I don’t swim in public beaches.”

Twyla makes a noise of surprise. “Not that I’m not happy that we’re here, but why did you want to come here, then?”

“For this,” Alexis gestures with a hand. “I don’t know why, but it’s like the one place that I feel completely at ease, you know? The sun, the salty air, the sound of the sea in the distance…”

“Right, because it’s meditative!”

“Not really, it just puts me in this state of total relaxation and it’s like my brain fog finally clears and puts everything back into perspective, or whatever.”

Beside her, Twyla grins and closes her eyes. “Totally.”

Alexis knows better than to nap in the sun, but god if she isn’t tempted. 

Besides, she has to remain aware of how long she’s been lying on her back so that she can rotate for that perfect tan.

She’s switching onto her belly by the time Twyla returns from her swim, dripping with sea water and panting from her brief hike up the beach. Alexis cracks her eyes open to see her pulling the tie out of her hair and shaking it out, and smiles. Behind her, the sea has begun to creep up the beach, and the horizon looks endless and unreachable. Alexis closes her eyes again with a sigh.

She is only vaguely aware of Twyla digging through the bag that she’d brought.

“Would you like some water?”

“Hm?”

“It’s a little warm now,” Twyla says, “but you should stay hydrated.”

Stretching, Alexis rolls onto her back and sits up. She takes the water bottle from Twyla and tries not to cringe at the room-temperature taste of it. While she screws the cap back on, Alexis can’t help but notice Twyla. She doesn’t mean to. She’s barely aware that she has, in the moment, and then she can’t think to remember why she shouldn’t.

The sun has browned new freckles into Twyla’s skin. Alexis follows the pattern of them along her arms and chest, and the cluster that stands out across the pink bridge of her nose. Sitting there, still glistening with sea water, and her gaze completely taken with the view, Twyla seems so different from the woman Alexis has come to think of her as.

Maybe it’s because they’re not in the café, or because she’s no longer in those ugly sneakers, but Alexis thinks she’s… kind of beautiful, actually, with her toothy smile and bright eyes, and the sunlight in her hair. Alexis wants to run her fingers through it. She wants to press her entire face into it, and say something _stupid_ like maybe Icarus had the right idea, except Alexis can’t remember if there was a moral behind that story or not and she doesn’t want to embarrass herself any more than she already has.

It’s only when those _bright eyes_ catch her staring that the involuntary smile falls from Alexis’ face.

“What?” Twyla asks, self-conscious, but Alexis shakes her head.

“You really do burn easily, don’t you?”

When Twyla only stares back at her, uncomprehending, Alexis reaches into the beach bag for the sunscreen. She squeezes a tiny amount out onto the tip of her finger, and then shuffles closer to Twyla until they’re near face-to-face. For her part, Twyla sits perfectly still – unnaturally still, as though she’s stopped breathing – as Alexis swipes her finger ever so carefully down the bridge of her nose.

 _Oh_ , Alexis thinks. _Soft_.

“Thank you,” Twyla says, a whisper against the backs of Alexis’ knuckles.

Alexis startles at her touch, but it’s only the sunscreen bottle that Twyla is after. Alexis lets it go with an audible gulp.

“No worries.”

She loses the next few flustered minutes to a daze, as sunscreen is reapplied and the sun makes its slow descent across the sky. Lying on her back, again, with Twyla mirroring her by her side, Alexis looks up into the infinite blue above their heads and steadies her breathing. She’s probably just hungry. Or maybe the heatwave is getting to her head.

Either way, Alexis makes a point to empty her mind of all thoughts until her next rotation, and as with most things that she genuinely puts her mind to, she is successful. 

She’s almost dozing when, beside her, Twyla says, “I can’t remember the last time I did this.”

Alexis smiles without opening her eyes.

“I told you, you work too hard.”

“No, I mean— _this_. I don’t know, maybe it’s not that big of a deal, but there aren’t many people that I could do this with.”

“Go to the beach…?”

“No,” Twyla says, and Alexis can tell that she’s smiling. “Just lie here with, doing nothing, and still find it peaceful.” She takes a deep breath in and sighs it out again, and Alexis can feel her stretching across the beach blanket. “It sounds silly when I say it out loud.”

Alexis turns to her, and the _no, actually_ — is on the very tip of her tongue, when she sees her, and all coherent thought leaves Alexis’ brain. It’s only that Alexis isn’t expecting it – the breath that catches in her throat, almost – that she stares. With her eyes closed and her breathing coming relaxed and easy, Twyla might almost be asleep, she looks so peaceful. Her hair has dried in natural sea-salt waves that tumble just-so across her shoulders, and Alexis finds the effect… strangely moving.

Her gaze travels carelessly down Twyla’s lithe body, and why hasn’t Alexis noticed how tiny she is, before? How… _portable_ she is? Even Alexis, who hasn’t done a day of manual labour in her life, could probably carry her around without breaking much of a sweat. Could pin her down, easily, if the occasion ever arose.

God, but— Twyla’s not just pretty, is she? Beneath those frumpy jeans and obscene floral dresses, she’s kind of _hot_.

Alexis turns her face into her crossed arms, and groans.

What is _wrong_ with her today?

Definitely too much sun.

Beside her, roused by the noise, Twyla stretches her arms out and sighs loudly. She blinks her eyes open as though she’d been close to drifting off, and shakes sand out of her hair. When she notices Alexis, unmoved from her position, her brow wrinkles with concern.

“Um, Alexis?”

“Mhmmhm.”

“Everything okay?”

Alexis tilts her head to one side, better to see Twyla and her smiling face, and pouts.

Has this always been here, she wonders – this underlying attraction? No, that’s too strong a word. _Affection_ , maybe? No, that still doesn’t seem right.

Twyla’s smile disappears behind her concern. “Alexis?”

“Yeah… yes! Totally. Super fine. Uh, we should eat out— eat somewhere. We should _eat out, somewhere_.” She sits up, flicking a strand of hair away from her eyes with barely repressed frustration, and clears her throat. “Those little restaurants up there look super cute, in that… fresh fish kind of way.”

Twyla follows Alexis gaze, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand.

“Oh, sure! I mean, I pulled some leftover spaghetti from the freezer this morning because I didn’t think we’d be out this late but,” she turns back to Alexis with a smile. “I’d love to eat out.”

She looks so genuinely excited by the prospect, that Alexis forgets her embarrassment and grins back.

“Okay,” she nods, clapping her hands together. “Then it’s a date!” _Too much!_ “A girls’ date.” _Better?_ “I’m going to put my clothes back on now…”

* * *

Alexis finds a table while Twyla orders drinks.

Outside, beneath the shade of a parasol, she watches the sun set over the sea – pink and warm and bashful. Alexis is not sorry to see the day go. As peaceful as it’s been, there’s a knot in her stomach that she hasn’t managed to untie, and Alexis barely understands the reason for it. Really, she wonders if she’d have been better off just not coming altogether, but a part of her is reluctant to think as much.

As though compelled, she searches for Twyla.

Alexis can just about make her out through the window, standing at the bar now, talking animatedly with the bartender in that easy-going way that makes conversing with strangers come naturally to her. Could Alexis really have been harbouring some kind of… secret admiration for her all this time? More than admiration, though – Alexis feels it now like it’s beneath her skin, feels alive with it, the _draw_ that pulls her gaze to Twyla even now, as she berates herself for it.

There’s no _way_.

Can’t be.

She won’t believe it.

And yet—

Studying her, now, Alexis presses her lips together and looks Twyla up and down. She’s _cute_ , and that’s it. Alexis has spent too much time in a small town, away from glitz and glamour. She’s projecting _something_ onto Twyla, although she can’t put her finger on what. If she could, though, Alexis is sure it would all make some kind of logical sense – that there’d be no reason for her to over-think this and panic.

She’s almost completely calmed herself down with that line of thought when Twyla returns with their drinks.

She sets two fruity looking mocktails down on the table, and then a jug of water with two spare glasses, and it’s testament to her years of waitressing that she doesn’t spill a drop.

“Because we need to rehydrate,” Twyla explains when Alexis looks between the four glasses with barely concealed confusion. “I think you might have had a bit too much sun today. Your cheeks are all flushed.”

 _So thoughtful_ , Alexis thinks, and groans internally. Why is that suddenly a turn on?

“I think you’re right. Definitely too much sun.”

* * *

They head home by twilight.

While Twyla drives, Alexis sits beside her watching the world pass in melancholic purples and blues from her window, feeling nostalgic for some long-forgotten childhood memory. The radio plays on low, music that she recognises only vaguely from her parents’ collections but couldn’t sing along to, while Twyla occasionally joins in with the choruses – quietly, just beneath her breath.

It’s comfortable, but then spending time with Twyla _is_ comfortable, when Alexis isn’t fretting over misplaced feelings.

“I had a lot of fun today,” she says, so sincerely that Twyla double-takes her before smiling.

“Me, too!”

“We should do this again.” She sits back against the headrest, winding a strand of hair around her finger and watching the landscape change around them – the greens turning darker and deeper, sky the colour of a fresh bruise. “Maybe next weekend, or if you have a quieter day during the week some time?”

Alexis chances a glance at Twyla.

“I don’t mean coming to the beach,” she adds, “just… I like spending time with you.”

Twyla catches her eye for a startled few seconds before her gaze returns to the road, and then her smile brightens.

“I like spending time with you, too,” she says, and Alexis falls back against her seat with a sigh.

It’s near-pitch black by the time they reach the motel, and the moment that the car stops running, Alexis feels the weight of her own reluctance in every limb. Directly ahead, the motel lights paint the car in shades of gaudy red. Alexis finds the two little lit-up windows behind the closed curtains of her family’s rooms, and wishes suddenly that she had another hour of road between them.

Beside her, holding the quiet, Alexis feels the pull from Twyla’s gaze.

Outside the car, crickets sing.

“So, I should…” Alexis gestures to the hotel, and Twyla nods her head. “Thanks for today. And, um, sorry for kind of making you drop work at such short notice. I really hope that didn’t get you into any trouble.”

Twyla laughs quietly and shakes her head. “With who?”

Alexis tucks hair behind her ear and shrugs in a way that she hopes disguises the fact that she genuinely has no idea if Twyla has a boss, per se.

“I had a lot of fun,” Twyla tells her. “And I think I’m only a tiny bit burned, which I will call a success.”

Alexis grins at her little pink nose.

“Your sunblock game is _super_ impressive.”

“Thank you.”

Alexis laughs without meaning to, and when she quiets again the car turns silent and heavy with anticipation.

She doesn’t know what possesses her to do it— it’s only that it’s one of those moments, when the air turns quick and dreamlike, and Alexis feels like she can do anything that she wants without fear of the consequences, and it’s _only_ that Twyla is looking at her so expectantly that Alexis is sure it’s what she wants, as well, when she leans in.

But she loses her nerve.

At the last possible moment, Alexis tilts her face and presses a kiss to Twyla’s cheek.

When she pulls back, the cricket song is deafening.

For one mortifying minute, Alexis sits in horror, studying the surprise on Twyla’s face. Her stomach churns in a way that she’s so rarely used to, and she swallows down a gulp of air to combat the embarrassment crawling up her throat. Beside her, Twyla draws her bottom lip into her mouth and releases a breath of amusement.

“Oh god, that was so awkward, I’m sorry! I don’t know why I just did that.”

Twyla’s laughter grows louder, which really _isn’t helping_.

Alexis wonders if anyone has ever actually died from embarrassment before, or if that’s just a saying.

“No, no,” Twyla says, and leans into the centre console between them, reaching out with one hand as though to console her. All at once, Alexis’ bone-deep mortification is lost to her tunnel vision, as Twyla presses ever so carefully nearer. An expression crosses her face – doubt, Alexis wants to say, or maybe uncertainty, that softens to something so irrevocably hopeful that it makes Alexis’ stomach flip all over again. “Don’t be sorry, but… may I?”

Alexis stares at her, uncomprehending, before her mind catches up with the look of intent in Twyla’s eyes.

“Oh! You want to…? Okay.”

She has a second to prepare for what’s about to happen, before Twyla cups her cheek in one hand and kisses her.

Alexis’ mind blanks.

 _Oh, soft_.

All the tension she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding in her shoulders dissipates, and Alexis leans into the kiss. Her own hand finds Twyla’s cheek, and she tilts her head just-so, that she can wet her tongue against the plump of Twyla’s bottom lip and catch her gasp before it leaves her mouth. And, she shouldn’t. God, but she _really_ shouldn’t, and Alexis knows this – even as she slides a hand into Twyla’s hair and deepens the kiss, and sighs so quietly against her that she almost loses her breath from the tenderness of it all.

She _shouldn’t_ ¸ but by the time Alexis draws back, she can’t remember _why_.

Twyla is breathless and flushed, and the surprise on her freckled face only stirs Alexis’ excitement.

She feels reinvigorated. She feels like doing it again, and again, and again.

“So,” Alexis says, before she can get carried away, but she’s already far too giddy to play coy and Twyla sees right through it. Alexis twirls hair around her finger and does not care, either way. “See you tomorrow?”

Pressing her lips together, Twyla hums like she’s trying not to laugh.

Not at her, though, Alexis can tell as much when she catches her gaze and Twyla’s blush deepens.

“Yes,” quietly, nodding her head. “See you tomorrow, Alexis.”

Alexis stands outside in the cold until Twyla’s car is nothing but a pair of bobbing headlights in the distance.

Alone, she bites her lip and closes her eyes, and feels her heart pound inside her chest like she’s just stopped sprinting. A noise not-unlike a repressed squeal leaves her mouth, and Alexis stomps her feet on the ground to work off the excess energy. God, but she feels _alive_ with it. Like she could scream, or spend the whole night dancing, or—

She turns back to the motel, only to find David watching her from an open doorway.

The shit-eating grin on his face is like a lightning strike to her spine.

“Um, did I just see you k—”

Alexis shushes him loudly before he can finish, and stomps inside.

David swivels around to follow her, expression unchanging.

“You just—”

“Stop!”

“ _Twyla_ —!?”

“Bzzzz!” 

David pouts and closes the door. “Well, is she a good kisser or what?”

“ _Ew, David!_ ”


End file.
